Fight The Good Fight
by Loki Zentra
Summary: Dena Howlett never forgot where she came from. She never let herself forget all of the pain of losing all her family, including the girl she called her sister. Years have passed since Steve Rogers came back from his icy grave. Now, it's time for Dena to pick up her sister's mantle and take orders from the Avengers. Can she let herself trust them after all the abuse she's taken?
1. Who I Am

My mother had been one hell of a fighter. She was a regular at Hell House. She wanted me to be just like her. Once I started walking, she started training me. When I was five, she took me to Hell House to watch her fight other mercs. I had to study her movements and the movements of her opponents. She would fight me, making me learn faster. By the time I was eight, she took me with her on missions. I had killed sixteen men before my ninth birthday. I remember she bought a golden locket; a gift for my first kill. I made a cut on my arm for every kill; a scar to remember.

She died on a mission in Africa. I was nine. I took some missions from Hell House on my own to keep a little food in my belly, but, even with my fast growing reputation, no one wanted a kid in the killing business. Just my luck, the bastards had morals. I wound up on the streets.

Sabretooth was my saving grace, if you could ever call him that. Sure, he treated me like shit, beat me black and blue, and used me as his sex toy, but he fed and clothed me. He gave me a place to sleep. He protected me. I didn't know any better; I thought he was a god, my god. I learned, however, that he was the Devil.

He used me as a spy; my mutation made me a perfect pawn. I never figured out what he did with the info I got him; I decided quickly that I did not want to know. He treated me the way he did, and I was valuable; I didn't want to even imagine what he did to the people he didn't like.

The last person he sent me to spy on was planning to kill a teenaged girl. I gave him everything I learned, but it was never enough. That was the last time he ever beat me. That as the day I was saved.

Wolverine did not seem like the type of person to save little orphans from the big, cruel world. He didn't seem the person to care; but he did. He took me back to the Xavier institute, and well, you know the rest of the story. It's been several years since my sister, Siobhan Analya Howlett, died. I was ten years old then. I am 19 now. Everything's changed, but I can't decide if it's changed for the better or not. That's for you to decide, I guess. I am Dena Howlett. This is my story.


	2. From Russia, With Love

I hated airports. They always gave me hives. I could picture a 747 diving through the building and killing millions. Flying, now that I had a deep disgust for. I never ever wanted to set foot on one of those flying death traps, and yet, here I was, high above the ground, heading for Russia.

Why the hell was I going to Russia? That is a good question. In response; I am the only member of the X-Men who can speak fluent Russian. Yay, me. Since when did I go on recruitment missions? I was so not a people person. My people skills were worse than Wolverine's! Scott had to be out of his mind when he suggested I go along.

"Calm down." Scott urged, noticing my nails digging into the arm rest of the chair.

"I'll calm down when my feet are safely on the ground." I sneered through gritted teeth. Scott just chuckled. I was too terrified to punch him in the arm in retaliation.

"Watch the movie." He suggested. "It'll get your mind off of the air."

"I do not want to watch Die Hard 2 in Russian, Scott." I growled.

"Well, you'd understand it more than I am."

"Yeah, keep reminding me why I'm here." I took a deep breath and stared at the seat in front of me.

"It's almost over. We should be landing soon." He handed me his drink.

"What is it?"

"Sprite and vodka. I thought you might need it at some point."

"Is the boy scout giving alcohol to a minor?" I teased.

"Drink it and shut up."

"Yes, sir, boss man." I drank it down happily, and tried to read my book.

By the time the plane landed, I felt nice and warm. Geeze, those Russians love vodka, huh? I was getting a buzz off of one glass. Good thing I was an expert at acting sober. I walked through the airport with no problem. Waiting for us at the gate was a milky white god. I shook my head and tried to scale him up. He was built like a brick wall; defiantly a working man. He had a warm smile on his kind face. He wore a wife beater and blue jeans; it showed off his six-pack and athletic legs.

"Welcome, comrades, to Russia." His voice was thick with Russian accent; it made me shiver.

"Hello, Peter. How are you?" Scott laughed as he went for a hug. This was Piotr? The man we were supposed to recruit and bring back to the US with us? Scott called him Peter, the American name, but I had a feeling he'd rather be called Piotr. From what I knew about him, he was a patriot.

"Who is this?" He looked to me with a smile.

"Dena Howlett." I stuck out my hand; he shook it.

"You have a strong handshake. This is good."

"Thanks." I smiled at him and looked to Scott. "He speaks English. Why am I here?"

"Excuse?" Piotr looked at Scott, confused.

"I brought Dena along because she speaks Russian. I thought it might come in handy."

"It will. I want you both to meet my family. You will join us tonight for dinner." He gave me a sort of smirk that made me raise an eyebrow. I had a sick feeling in my gut. I didn't like people. I really didn't.

Piotr would not hear of us staying in a hotel. He put us in the spare room in his family's house. I felt so awkward. I did not like hanging around people I knew; I _so_ did not like all these people I'd never met before. Dinner had been not been as bad as I had been expecting, just a little busy. Except for Piotr, no one spoke English. I had to do a lot of translating for Scott. It actually made me feel good, believe it or not. I liked feeling useful.

Scott was already fast asleep on his side of the king sized bed. I was too wired to sleep. I opened the door slightly, and looked around. No one was up and about, so I made my way out the front door and went to sit in the yard.

It was cold, like most people think Russia is. I shivered slightly in my nightgown, and pulled my jacket tighter around me. Maybe I should have worn shoes?

I stared up at the stars, my view obscured as it started to snow. I smiled, and let out a happy sigh. I loved snow.

The stars were different from the ones in the sky at the mansion. Russia was a long way from Washington. Most people would feel home sick at thinking about how far away they were, but I never did. You had to have a home to be homesick.

"You're going to get sick." Piotr's gruff voice startled me. He put a shawl around my shoulders and sat beside me.

"I don't get sick." I tried to keep my voice steady.

"I did not mean to startle you, Dena." He said after a moment. He was quiet, and slow to choose his words. I liked that.

"I don't easily let my guard down." I shrugged.

"Why is your guard down, then?"

"I don't know. I feel…calm. It must be the cold."

"You do not like the cold?"

"No, I love the cold. It feels…serene."

He chuckled. "It sounds like Russia is a good place for you."

"No," I smiled and shook my head, "serenity is not something that I need."

"Everyone needs a little for mental health."

"Ok, how about, it's not something I can afford?"

"You're very young, why does your voice sound so old?"

"That sounds a tad insulting."

"I don't mean for it to. I'm having a little trouble finding the rights words to phrase what I mean in English." He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed.

"I speak Russian, or have you forgotten?"

"Oh, yes." He laughed quietly. "I'm not used to having people from America being able to speak the language of Mother Russia." He continued, in Russian.

"How many visitors do you get from America? Not many people can get clearance to get out here." I looked at him, searching his eyes. I could tell when a person was lying to me.

"Just people from Xavier's institute. I never understood how they could come and go as they please." He looked at me, his head slightly tilted to the side. I wondered what he was thinking. I was afraid to ask. I usually found Russian to be such a harsh, dull language, but it flowed like honey off his tongue. Wow, did I just think that?

"Why is the Prof so intent on getting you to come back with us?"

"I don't know. I want to stay here, to protect my family."

"I'm not well versed on Russian politics, but I hear it's not fun." I sighed, and looked back to the stars.

"It is my home, no matter what happens."

"Home."

"Yes, just as America is your home."

"America is not my home."

"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow, curious now.

I took a deep breath. "I was born in Germany. No one knows that. It's only through some shifty, red-acted, government stuff that people see me as an American."

"I see."

We were quiet for a few minutes. "When I was little, my mother flew me to Russia."

"So, this is not your first time here?" He smiled at me; I kept my eyes on the stars.

"My mother traveled a lot, and she had to take me with her."

"Could you not have stayed with your father?"

"I don't have a father. Not a biological one, anyway."

"You are a lab-grown person?" He gasped. I laughed.

"No, I should clarify. I have a father, but I never met him; I don't even know his name."

"Ah, that must have been some kind of life."

"What do you mean?" I looked at him, confused.

"To not have a father figure in your life. It's…unnatural."

"Not by my choice, I promise you. And I got a father eventually."

"Excuse?"

"My mother died when I was little. Wolverine; you remember him?; he found me wandering the streets when I was 11. He adopted me, and took me to the Prof."

"Wolverine adopted you? He doesn't strike me as the paternal type." He chuckled.

"He's not, but he tried. That's what's important. Besides, I wasn't his first kid."

"What?" Now, he was just shocked.

"Yes, he has a son, who hates him. Not much parenting there. But, other than me, he also adopted another girl." I went back to staring at the sky.

"Where is she?"

"Gone."

"I see." He stood, and picked me up in his arms.

"What the hell are you doing?" I fought to get free.

"Calm down. You are cold, and not wearing shoes. I'll carry you back inside." He chuckled at my rage, holding on tighter, so as not to drop me.

"I can walk. I'm not a baby."

"I did not mean to imply that." He walked back into the house, and put me down on the wooden floor of the kitchen. "Now, you should go to bed. It is late."

"Thank you." I blushed. Thank God he couldn't see it in the dark. I looked at him. "Why were you up, anyway?"

"I don't sleep well."

"That's not good. I have some medicine that could help you." I offered, trying to be nice. It wasn't my strong suit. He was being…gentlemanly, I could at least be nice.

"No, that is ok. I need to be alert at all times."

"You need sleep eventually."

"Eventually, yes. Good night, Dena. Sleep well." He went back to his room, and left me standing there, not sure if I had offended him or not.

The next morning we saw the family in action. They were all so… busy. Every person had a specific task that they did. The men worked in the fields, and the women took care of the house work and cooking. Scott and I felt so out of place. Piotr eventually put Scott to work with him in the fields, and I wandered around aimlessly, not finding anything I could do. I have never felt so useless in my life.

"Watch out!" I heard someone scream. I instantly ran towards it. Piotr's sister was crying, a scrape on her arm. Someone had lost control of a tractor, and it had scraped her arm as Piotr had saved her. The tractor crashed into a tree, now in shambles.

Piotr looked grave. "The government owns that tractor…" He was scared.

"Let me have a look at it." I offered.

"It's destroyed. What could you do? You are a woman." A man guffawed at me. I scowled and looked at Scott.

"Help me get this thing to the barn."

"Yes, ma'am." He chuckled.

We managed to get the tractor, with use of a giant rope-pulley rig, into the barn. I grabbed a hammer and a wrench and took a deep breath.

"Time to get to work, mechanic." Scott smiled, and left me with the heap of metal.

"You are wasting your time, American. It is ruined."

"_Watch me prove you wrong, little pig."_ I replied, in Russian, startling him. He left, muttering under his breath and I got to work.

Six hours later, I had almost finished. I had rewired all the electric components, reset all the belts and gizmos, changed the oil, filled it with gas, and, now, was in the middle of hammering out the giant dent in the front hood. I needed to get the dent out, and reset the bumper, and it would be as good as new, with only a little paint damage.

Piotr came in, jaw dropped, just staring at me. "How did you…"

"I probably would have given up hours ago, called it a lost cause, but for two things."

"And those are?"

"That idiot who said I couldn't do it, because I was a girl." I swung hard with the hammer, getting out the last dent. I slammed down the hood, and bent down to pick up the fixed bumper. Piotr helped me hold it still while I screwed it on.

"The second reason?" He raised an eyebrow, eyes glittering with laughter. I frowned.

"I hear stories about what happens to people who piss off your government. I wasn't going to let that happen to you and your family. It's inhuman."

"But, you are not human."

"No, but I still have human values." I growled.

"I have offended you." He frowned, helping me to my feet, away from the tractor.

"No, just reminded me of something."

"There's nothing wrong with being non-human, you know." He brushed a strand of hair that had fallen from my ponytail out of my eyes. "Mutants are no better, or worse, than humans; just different."

"Sure." I dusted the dirt off of my clothes, and looked at him. "Your family won't be punished now, right?"

"No, we are in no danger now." He looked at me, confused.

"Good. Is dinner ready, yet?"


	3. Angry Little Girl

Scott stared at me as I brushed my hair before bed. It was disturbing as hell.

"I'd tell ya to take a picture, bub, but I bet Jean would get jealous."

"Sorry," He blushed bright red, "I didn't realize I was staring."

"What's wrong, specs? You've been out of it since dinner." I smirked and separated my hair into two long braids.

"I don't get you." He sighed.

"Good, I don't want anyone to 'get me.' That's boring." I sat down on the bed beside him, pulling on a thin pair of black socks. It was cold, and I didn't get cold easily.

"You are so anti-social; you hate people. Yet, you go out of your way to help them."

"It wasn't out of my way." I snorted. "I was right there."

"You know what I mean." He growled. "I just wish I could understand you and your…fancies."

"Fancies? Well, guvnah, I oughta tell ya, the Queen would take offense to a man askin' a girl like meh about 'er fancies." I laughed, loving the fake cockney accent.

"Dena, seriously. Why did you help them?"

"They needed help." I shrugged and snuggled under the covers, turning to face the wall.

"A lot of people have needed help over the years that you've ignored."

"A lot of people can help themselves, and are just too lazy to try. Pitor's different. He tries, really hard."

"Piotr?" I could feel Scott raising an eyebrow at me, even behind my back. "I see."

"Shut up, Scott. It's not like that. I just have…sympathy for him." I sighed, suddenly very tired.

"Get some sleep, Dena. Just sleep." I felt him shift, getting comfortable in the bed.

I stiffened. Scott was one of my best friends, and I trusted him more than most people, but I still didn't trust him sharing a bed with me. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't Scott that I didn't trust, it was just the fact that he was a man. I didn't trust men. Men always gave into their animal tendencies.

I laid awake for about an hour, until I heard Scott start to snore. I slowly shimmied out of the bed, and went out to the kitchen. Piotr was sitting at the table, huddled over a cup of coffee. I could see that it was cold.

"Need a refill?" I asked. He stiffened, then relaxed. I had startled him.

"What are you doing up?" He asked, turning towards me.

"Couldn't sleep. What about you?" I grabbed the coffee pot and poured two new cups of coffee. I sat down in the chair beside him and pushed a cup towards him. He took it and smiled at me.

"Just got too many things running through my head."

"A problem shared is a problem halved." I took a sip of my coffee and grimaced. Very weak. Did not want.

"You're not like other girls."

"You have no idea." I laughed.

"You have no problem doing men's work."

"Wrong." I frowned. "There is no such thing as men's work; just work. There are a=things men are more suited for, because they are physically stronger, but that doesn't mean there are no women who can do the things you do."

"I've offended you."

"A little." I shrugged. "I'm used to it."

"You confuse me."

"I think there is a support group for that." I chuckled to myself, thinking of how I confused just about everyone.

"You act so…ridged."

"I'm in a place I don't know around people I don't know."

"Even around Scott."

"I don't like people, in general."

"Even now, talking to me, you seem so overly cautious.'

"If I wasn't being mindful of what I say or do, I would offend you, and Scott would get mad."

"You want to be polite because Scott wants you to."

"Yup."

"Not because you want to?'

"Nope. I don't care about social conventions, they're useless to me."

"Why don't you like people?"

"It's my experience that people cannot be trusted, no matter how close they are to you. It is best to keep everyone at a distance; safer." I sighed, really not in the mood to explain all of this to a man I would probably never see again. We came here to get Piotr to come back with us; I already knew that wasn't going to happen. He loved his home and family too much to leave.

"So, it is safe to assume you have no man in your life?"

I frowned at him. "Why would you ask that?"

"If I came to America…"

"I will not be your whore."

"Excuse?" He jolted back, startled.

"Don't even think that you can use me as a bartering chip. You offer to come to America, only if I date you, right? Then, of course, I have to consider how badly the Professor wants you in the X-Men. I sell myself to get you to come to America." I was fuming angry. How dare he!?

"No! that's not what I meant at all! I would never suggest such a thing!" He looked hurt and angry. I didn't care. I shot him one last angry stare, and went back to the guest room.

The next morning, all my and Scott's things were packed to leave. Scott was shaking his head at me.

"You've done it again." He sighed.

"Done what?" I snarled, gathering my bathroom things.

"Expected the worst from a person."

"I expect it, because it always happens."

"Wrong." He snapped. "You go looking for the worst, and you find it. Peter said nothing wrong; you took it wrong because you were looking for a reason not to trust him. You make it a point to find reasons not to trust people so that you don't have to deal with them."

"I am not discussing this right now, Scott."

"Fine, then shut up and listen." He growled. I sat down on the bed, startled. Scott never got mad.

"You need to loosen up. Not everyone will treat you badly. Yes, you've had a hard life. There have been people who have used and abused you, but not everyone will do that. You lead a very lonely life, Dena. You will suffer through it, unless you start to make some friends. Learn to trust people. Learn that not all of us are going to hurt you." He had this expression on his face that was mix of anger, frustration, and pain. He looked so tired. Did I make him tired?

I looked at him, my face blank. I stood and picked up my bags. "I'll be waiting in the truck. Our plane leaves in an hour."


	4. The Avenger's Problem

I was so happy to be home. My little apartment was perfect. Everything was in order. Everything had its place. It was clean, tidy, neat, and orderly. I loved it. Clint had met me and Scott at the airport. Scott still wasn't speaking to me. He went back to the mansion to tell Professor X everything that had happened. Clint took me home to my perfect apartment.

He didn't ask me how my trip was. He didn't ask if I was ok. He didn't ask why I was a little green around the edges. Clint was perfect like that. He didn't pry. He waited for me to tell him things; he knew I'd tell him everything eventually.

He sat down beside me on my little leather couch, and handed me a beer he'd gotten out of the fridge. Knowing I was underage, he always bought me a little alcohol to have stocked. He was perfect, did I mention that?

"Scott's pissed." I said.

"So I noticed." He replied.

We sat in silence for a few moments. I sipped at the beer and grimaced. I hated beer, it tasted disgusting, but I needed something with a little alcohol content. I didn't want to get drunk; not fast, anyway.

"I still hate flying." I said, finally. I turned, and laid down in his lap. He smiled, and stroked at me hair absent-mindedly.

"You're such a pansy."

"Am not!" I stuck out my bottom lip and pouted.

"Now, stop that. That's not fair." He chuckled and booped my nose with his finger.

"Hmph." I smiled and took another sip. He laughed, and took the bottle from me.

"Would you like something else? Something sweet?"

"I like sweet."

He pushed me up, and went back to the fridge. I kicked off my shoes and walked to the kitchen.

"Anything interesting happen while I was gone?" I plopped down in a chair at the table, rubbing my temple.

"Not really. Tony's got his new battle simulator up and running. He likes turning up to killer mode whenever I go in. The guy wants me dead, I swear." He laughed, pouring some blue coconut Boone's Farm in two glasses.

"Of course, I think we all do." I stuck out my tongue, and sipped at the Boone's Farm. It tasted delicious; coconut was my favorite.

"Lies. If I were dead, who'd buy you booze?"

"Deadpool would do it." I smiled at him.

"Oh, sure, replace me with Deadpool. I see where I rank in the grand scheme of things." He pouted and chugged down his glass.

"Thirsty?" I asked, smiling.

"Nah, I just feel the need to drink around you."

"How else could you deal with my ugly mug?" I laughed, pouring him another glass.

"It is a puke-worthy visage."

"Thank you, for murdering the English language."

"I could murder a few others, but I'm not quite as bilingual as you are, Ms…..bilingual!"

"Good come back."

"I thought so."

"I need to go to the store tomorrow."

"All out of black lipstick?"

"Yes, but that's not the reason. I need to get some more shampoo. The Russian climate was hell on my hair."

"That is the girliest thing I've ever heard you say."

"Let's hope it stays that way. I don't like being stereotypically girly."

"At least I'll never be able to gouge out my eyes with your brooches." He shrugged.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Have you never read Oedipus, the King?" He raised an eyebrow.

"You are sick and twisted."

"You like it that way."

"That is beside the point." I laughed, finishing off my glass of wine.

"Ah, she smiles, at last." He took away my glass and handed me a Dr. Pepper. I raised an eyebrow.

"Beer, wine, and Dr. Pepper. What are you plotting?"

"Not me, specifically." He said slowly. I scowled.

"What's going on?" I demanded. He sighed.

"Stark wants me to bring you in."

"I'm not doing it." I growled, getting up for the table and dragging my suitcases into my bedroom.

"Dena, we need your help." He sounded utterly defeated, and yet he kept trying. Brownie points for him, but I still didn't wanna do it.

"Clint, I do not give a flying shit about the Avengers." I plopped open the suitcases on my bed and started sorting my clothes into two piles, dirty and clean.

"Your sister did."

"Low blow." I growled, staring at him. "Get out."

"Dena, please."

"Get out, Hawkeye, before I hurt you." I clenched my fists by my side. "Now."

He left, not saying another word. I dropped to the ground and cried.

So, I guess I should fill you in on some of the stuff that's gone down since my sister, God rest her soul, died all those years ago.

I immediately signed up with Fury, wanting to do what my sister believed in. He sent me to France, of all places, to get some basic training in espionage and to learn the ropes. The plan was to let me join the Avengers full-time once I was fully trained.

I was damn good at any job they gave me. Spying, tracking, fighting, killing, interrogating; these were a few of my favorite things. I had a team that trusted me, and I trusted them. We worked well together, especially since I was fluent in French. After about a month, I wasn't the stupid American girl, I was another French girl.

It all went shit storm when I found out they were all lying to me. I thought I was being trained to fight with the Avengers; I wasn't. I was being made a SHIELD lackey. No one had told me that Tony Stark had made sure that the Avengers were separate from SHIELD. SHIELD made it possible for the Avengers to get away with certain things, but they didn't answer to them. I had been used.

I flew home immediately. I lived in the mansion for a few months, working odd jobs at Hell House that weren't…totally immoral, if such a thing existed, then got my own apartment. Fury was quick to try and black mail me back, but I didn't give in. I didn't give a shit what people thought of me or of what I did. I was done trusting people. I was done with SHIELD.

So, now you know part of the reason I'm so fucked up. I was betrayed. Does that excuse everything I do? No. I'm not looking to be excused. I am not a good person, I know that. I don't pretend to be anything else. I'm not looking for approval or a shoulder to cry on. Just thought you'd wanna know, for your own peace of mind and understanding.

My phone rang, breaking me from my angry musings. I looked at the caller ID. Just a number, no name. I answered it hesitantly.

"Speak." I said.

"Dena, this is Steve Rogers." His voice was short, to the point.

"Goodbbye." I hung up. The phone rang again ten seconds later. I answered again. "I do not want to talk to you, Rogers."

"Dena, we have a problem. We need you."

"I do not care. You've done just fine without me so far."

"We have a huge problem."

"That's too bad."

"Kid, get down here." Logan's voice surprised me.

"What are you doing there, Dad?"

"Get here, now." He hung up. I stared at the phone, then rolled my eyes. When was I going to learn to say no to him?

I sat awkwardly on the couch in the Avenger's tower, hating the staring eyes. They were all just looking at me. I scowled.

"Nice clothes." Natasha sneered.

"I got them from ya mother." I snarled right back. I was wearing a black cotton corset with white piping and a black spider webs designed skirt that went to mid-thigh, and stiletto black booties. I had on black eyeliner and eyeshadow that made my blues eyes sparkle in m anger. I liked the shock factor.

"Dena, we have a problem." Steve sighed.

"My ownly problem is that you're all staring at me like Nessie." I rolled my eyes.

"Not staring, watching. We don't trust you." Natasha scoffed.

"The feeling's mutual, I assure you."

"You're a smart ass, just like your sister." She spat.

"Natasha…"Steve said warningly.

"That is the greatest compliment anyone has ever given me." I smiled sweetly, making her scowl.

"Enough, you two." Stark laughed as he came down the stairs. "We have bigger fish to fry."

'At last, someone is going to tell me what's going on." I rolled my eyes.

"Well, she's a bundle of fireworks, isn't she?" Another man laughed. I looked up. Several men wee following Stark down the stairs, all confused-looking.

"Recruiting, Strak?" I asked.

"Not quite." The man said. I looked at him, confused. He looked really familiar. My eyes went wide.

"Tony, do you have a brother?"

"No, Dena, but close, and, given the current understanding of science, the best guess."

"'What are you talking about?" I rubbed my temple in frustration.

"I am Tony's father." The man said.

"Liar. Howard Stark is dead."

"Oh, she's a smart one."

"You have no idea." Tony smiled at me.

"Stark, I'm not in the mood for games."

"The kid's a little pistol." Logan stood beside the man who claimed to be Howard, staring at me as if he'd never met me before.

"Dad, what's going on?"

"I ain't ya dad, kid." He scoffed.

"No, I am." Logan appeared behind me. I di a double take. One Logan beside me, one Logan beside Howard. Two Logans.

"Cloning?" I asked, looking to Tony.

"Another good guess." He beamed at me.

"But, still not right." I finished.

"No, not right."

"Are we going to play the guessing game all day, or are you going to explain this to me?" I took a good look at all the men on the staircase. "Two Logans, two Rogers, Howard Stark…." I took a deep breath. "Are you going to tell me we have time travelers?"

"See? I told you she was smart." Tony laughed.

"I like her." Howard winked at me. I scowled.

"Ok, start from the begging." I shifted, making myself comfortable on the couch, waiting to hear the story.


	5. In Which Dena Is Given A Little Push

"We actually have no idea how they got here." Tony started. "I was working on some upgrades for Iron Man, and suddenly, he's there," he pointed to Howard, "standing beside me, handing me wrenches."

"All of these people just started popping up in the tower." Clint said, sighing. "It was really awkward."

"The only thing they have in common is working together back in WW2." Bruce sat down beside me, looking exhausted. He never looked good, but he looked exceptionally like shit today.

"Have there been any other incidents?" I asked. "Any private citizens having lost loved ones come back?"

"Not that we can tell. As far as we know, it's an isolated incident." Tony replied.

"Well, then it has to have something to do with just these people."

"I agree." Tony handed me a folder. "These are the names and bios of all these people who've shown up." He said, motioning to them all.

"How are you all holding up?" I looked at them. "Culture shock alone would cause severe mental anguish."

"They've all been sent to basic psychology screenings. They're fine, just confused."

"Stop talking about them as if they aren't standing right here, Tony." I frowned at him.

"Sorry." He shifted uncomfortably.

"This is really my kid?" The 1940's version Logan asked, chuckling.

"Debatable." I replied, not looking at him. He laughed. "So why tell me all this? What could I possibly do to help?"

"We want to send them all back, of course. We don't need a ruined time stream. Who knows the ramifications of them being here?"

"Are they really here?" I asked. "These could all be shapeshifting mutants. Spies. How do you know they're who they say they are?"

"We've run tests. All the DNA matches."

"My DNA matches when I shift."

"They know things only that person would know."

"Could be good recon."

"I doubt it. There is no way some of the stuff they know could be figured out with recon." Natasha replied. "I should know."

"Logan." I looked at him. "What do you regret most about joining the Weapon X program?"

He stiffened. "I lost her."

"Lady Deathstrike, they call her now. She's a cold-heart bitch."

"Don't you dare call her that!" He roared. I stared at him.

"It is Logan." I said after a moment.

"See?" Tony smirked at me. I frowned.

"You're kind of a bitch." Howard said, chuckling.

"You haven't seen bitch, yet." Clint laughed.

"I don't see how you put up with her. She hates all of us." Natasha scoffed.

"Actually, she only hates you. She just doesn't trust the rest of us. Truthfully, we haven't really given her much reason to." He shrugged.

"Trust must be earned." Rogers agreed. "We haven't give her the chance to see our worth."

"This is a discussion for another time." I said, trying to stay on topic and away from touchy-feely nonsense. "We need to figure out how these people got here."

"We have people analyzing the areas where they appeared to see if there are any anomalies." Bannor piped in, smiling.

"So, who all do we have here?" I sighed, opening the folder,

"I'm Timothy Dugan." One man spoke up. He was burly with the fuzziest mutton chops I'd ever seen.

"Dum-dum Dugan?" I asked.

"That's me, ma'am." He said proudly.

"One of the first officers of SHIELD." I was actually in awe. "Born in Boston, entered the British Army in World War 2."

"You're not looking at the paper."

"Don't have to. You're taught at the academy."

"Academy?" He raised an eyebrow.

"SHIELD has a training academy, believe it or not."

"And you attended this academy?"

"From age 11 to age 16." I replied, trying not to sound angry.

"Touchy subject." The man beside him said warningly.

"Morita? Jim Morita?" I asked.

"Yep." He smiled. "Always happy to answer pretty ladies."

"You have no idea how much of the wrong tree you're barking up." Clint laughed.

"All of these men were in a unit with the Cap." I looked to Rogers.

"Wolverine wasn't." Bannor said.

"Wolverine was in the Canadian forces. He ran a rescue mission with Rogers." I explained.

"How do you know that?" The 40's Logan asked.

"You've told me the story hundreds of times…or you will…this is slightly confusing." I rubbed my temple.

"So, now you're all caught up. You know everything we do." Clint said.

"We'll see about that." I mumbled, but turned to look at Tony. "When did this happen?"

"Two days ago. We've been waiting for you to get back from Russia."

"Right. Well, does Fury know about this?"

"No. We've no intention of telling SHIELD. We don't need them butting into things."

"Now there's a plan I can follow."

"Figured as much. We're all tired of SHIELD, Dena." Rogers sighed. I looked at him.

"Where do I start?" I sighed, giving in.

"First, we'll get you a room in the tower." Tony's face lit up like a Christmas tree in triumph.

"Say what? Why can't I live at my apartment."

"You want to be an Avenger, don't you?" He smirked at me.

"I never said that." I growled. "I like my apartment."

"We can give you an entire floor to yourself. You'd be completely isolated, but close enough to get to the others in an emergency."

"Since when did agreeing to help once become a contract?" I yelped.

"We've been trying to get you here since you got back from France. Do you blame us?"

I gave him a cold, steely glare. "A whole floor to myself?"

"Yes!" He hugged me. I squealed. "Did I hurt you?"

"You're touching me! It burns!"

Clint groaned as he moved the last of my stuff into my new room. I chuckled.

"I have a feeling all of this nonsense was you're doing, so you're gonna get the brunt end of it all."

"I brought all these guys back?" He asked, smiling.

"No, but you made it work to your advantage."

"Can you blame me for wanting you living closer to me?" He winked, I rolled my eyes. "Why on Earth do you have so much stuff?"

"Well, because I DID have an entire apartment to furnish and live in." I smothered on the sarcasm.

"Isn't this what you wanted? To be an Avenger?"

"Not for a long time, Clint. You know that."

"I just don't get it." He plopped down on my bed. "Just because Fury pissed you off, you hate us. We didn't lie to you for years, he did."

"That's not the point." I sighed, trying to unpack a box.

"What is the point?"

"We're not having this conversation, Clint."

"Why not? You've avoided the conversation since you got back to the states when you were 16."

"Don't push me on this, Clint." I warned.

"I never push you on anything." He sighed, and slowly walked out. Something in me told me to go after him. That something was quickly shut down by the part of me that didn't want to get close to him. I kept my mouth and shut and tried to focus on unpacking my life; literally.

It took me hours to get everything the way I wanted it. The books were on the bookshelf in alphabetical order by author, the title, the knickknacks were lined along shelves and my desk, folders were propped up by book ends on my desk, beside my large computer monitor, the tower was under the desk, the bed was made crisply, and all my clothes were hung up or folded neatly in drawers. Everything was perfect.

"I think you have OCD." Tony took a bite out of an apple as he leaned against the frame of my door.

"No, there's just a place for everything, and I want it in its place." I said, breaking down the last box and tossing it in the pile that I would take out to the dumpster later.

"You just proved what I said."

"I did nothing of the sort." I replied, trying not to look at him. Tony had a knack for making people smile; I was not in the mood to allow myself to smile.

"You need therapy."

"You're one to talk."

"You're sassy, just like your sister."

I tensed, then relaxed. I had tried to remind myself that Tony knew my sister as well as I did. "My sister was a lot nicer than I am."

"No, just less guarded." He took another bite and looked me over. "But, then, she never dealt with half the stuff you've had to deal with in your life."

"You don't know what I've had to deal with." I said, instantly regretting it. I really was acting like a bitch, I didn't want to. I like Tony, but I just…couldn't be nice to him. I don't know how to explain it.

"I'm not your enemy here, Dena." Tony sighed.

"I know that." I sat down at my desk and looked at him. "I'm not goods with people, Tony. Honest, I don't know how to communicate with people without offending them or pissing them off. I am trying though, I promise."

"Learning to trust again takes time."

"I like instant gratification."

"I'll just bet you do." He winked at me and walked away. I rolled my eyes.


	6. Suspicions Confirmed

"I must talk with you, mortal." Thor came in and sat on my bed. Ok, awkward.

"Sup, god-dude?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I have need of your intellect for a problem I have."

I sighed. "Here, take this tube of lotion and rub it on the affect area twice a day…"

"No, mortal." He stopped, me, confused. "It is my brother, Loki."

"Loki? You mean the Norse god of chaos, destruction, and mischief?"

"My brother, yes." He nodded solemnly.

"So, you guys actually believe that you're gods?"

"We are, mortal."

"I was under the assumption that you were aliens."

"So many words, you have, to describe the same thing."

"I see. Well, any who, what's the problem? I mean, Loki is usually an Avengers team effort, right?" I sat back in my desk chair and gave him my full attention. No more jokes. Loki was serious business.

"I was home, in Asgard, a few days ago. He was there, arguing with Odin."

"Oooo, that sounds like a no-no."

"Indeed." He looked me over, as if expecting to see something.

"What's wrong, Thor?"

"Well, he spoke of you."

"Me?" I jolted back slightly in my chair. "I've never met him. Why would he talk about me?"

"More accurately, he spoke of your father."

"Logan?" I asked, breathlessly, knowing the answer.

"No." His face was dark and solemn.

"Do you know who my father is, Thor?"

"Do you?"

"No." I got up to grab a rootbeer out of my minifridge. I offered him one, he declined. I sat back down and sighed. "I asked the Professor to find him for me once."

"He was unsuccessful?"

"In a manner."

"I do not understand."

I sighed. "He was getting close, and the closer he got, the more rumors I heard. A man with red skin who wanders through the centuries, creating children, and leaving them. A demon, building an army of half-breed spawn." I looked him in the eyes. "He was a demon, mistaken for a mutant, who finds interesting female mutants to seduce and impregnate. A total hit-it-and-quit-it guy."

"You think this is your father?"

"I don't know, not for sure anyway. It terrifies me that it could be true, so I had the Professor stop. I'd prefer the ignorant bliss of absence than knowing my father was…this thing."

"I see." It was his turn to sigh. 'I do not wish to trouble you with things that you do not wish to know."

"But?"

"But, if I don't, you may get hurt."

"Tell me." I nodded slowly, bracing myself.

"Your fears are correct, you are the daughter of Azazeal, a demon of rebellious spirit."

I took a deep breath, and took a long drink of my root beer. I looked at him long and hard. "No matter what this means to me, or the Avengers, Logan doesn't need to know."

"I agree. Logan has a more tender heart than he would let on. This would not bode well for him in his thoughts."

"Ok, so Loki was talking about Azazeal." I propped my legs up on my desk. "How does this have anything to do with me?"

"The rumor you had heard about Azazeal breeding an army…tis true."

"Nightcrawler…"

"The blue mortal?" Thor raised an eyebrow at me.

"His mother was Mystique, but Azazeal is his father."

"You know this to be true?"

"We learned it a long time ago. I don't know if he knows, but the Professor does."

"You are worried about him?"

"He's an X-Man. It's the same as a brother for outcasts like me."

"Then you know the bond of having a brother." He said softly. I stared at him. After all the shit that Loki had done, Thor still saw all of this as losing a brother. It was…heart wrenching. But, then again, I didn't have a heart, so…

"I've lost siblings, Thor. I know it never really stops hurting, but you can't let this affect you."

"I will not let this affect my actions."

"Yeah, we all say things like that. But it all comes down to when the time comes, can you do what's needed?"

"Are you asking if I can kill my brother?" He gave me a cold stare.

"No. I don't like death, believe it or not. It's more like, if it comes down to this team, or Loki, who do you choose? If you can only support one."

"It is a hard choice."

"I know. I can't say I would choose friends over family, so I'm not going to ask you to, either. It's not my place."

"But, how do you know if you can trust me if you do not ask?"

"Thor," I sighed, "don't take this the wrong way, but there is no way I could ever trust you , or anyone, fully. I trust me, and only me. Makes things a lot simpler."

"That sounds like a lonely existence."

"Sometimes." I took another drink. 'Now, back on point, how are Loki and Azazeal connected?"

"I think Loki is using Azazeal to use his children as his own army."

"He wants to use me and all my half-siblings to take over Earth?"

"Why stop at Earth? If your siblings are even half as capable as you are, they could easily take over Asgard."

"Loki wants to rule over everything." I looked to the door, thinking I'd heard something. Must have been my imagination. "Why did you come to me, first? Sounds like you should have taken this to everyone."

"I was worried. I told you, Loki spoke of you to Odin."

"Specifically?"

"Yes."

"What was said, Thor?" I asked, trying to keep the edge of anger out of my voice. Anger, that's a good emotion. So much better than fear or worry.

"I do not know. I heard only snippets of conversation. All I know is, you were talked of, by name, several times."

"Have you spoken to Odin about this? Surely he wouldn't want to enable Loki to be able to take over Earth."

"Loki has fooled Odin, yet again. Odin would not believe anything I said of Loki's treachery. He does not care for Earth, nor does he believe that Loki would try for such a lofty goal.'

"Though he's tried a couple times, now."

"Odin is bespelled."

"Grand. But, that still doesn't tell me why you came to me first.'

"Loki is a master of taking any shape he wishes. Have you had any friends lately? New people who try to open up to you and become an ally?"

"Only you guys." I sighed. "I really can't think of anything. I don't let people close to me."

"That's good. I believe that Loki has been keeping an eye on you. You must be on your guard."

"I always am. Ask Tony, he's been listening from behind the door." I knew I had heard something. I turned to watch Tony open the door to reveal himself, smiling awkwardly.

"I'm no ninja, huh?" He chuckled.

"Not at all." I tossed him a root beer. He caught it and sat on my bed beside Thor. "So, what do you think, boss man?"

"I try not to." He chugged down the soda and smirked at me. "One thing is for certain, we can't let you out of our sight, now."

"I don't like being put in a cage, Stark." I growled.

"No, no, no, I would never suggest a thing. Maybe handcuffs, but that's for something different." He winked at me, I rolled my eyes. "I meant, it's a good thing to have you living in the tower, now. You don't need a guard 24/7, but we probably need to do a background check on all your friends."

"My friends? I can name them on one hand."

"Shoot away."

"Clint. Logan. The professor."

"Really? Those are your only friends? They don't even count!"

''How so?"

"Logan is your father, the Professor is your tracher."

"And Clint?"

"He…ok, he may count." He chuckled and looked to Thor. "We need to run combat simulations. You ready?"

"Always, Tony."

"God, you two are so gay."

"And you, are not a nice person." Tony laughed.

"I'd be so boring if I were."

"True."


	7. Leaving As Swiftly As They Came

"I am a bastard."

"Yeah, we know that." I laughed as I sat down next to Logan at the table in the kitchen. Bruce looked at me worriedly, I just smiled.

"You seem chipper today." Bruce seemed on edge. Didn't surprise me, I scared people with my good moods.

"I am. No reason to be ticked off, yet." I smiled and looked back to Logan. "Now, why have you come to the realization that you're a bastard?"

"Maybe he's been spending too much time with his past self."

"Or, maybe this is the past self, and he's getting tired of the current self. Ugh. This time travel bull is already making my head hurt." I laughed.

"I don't know you, kid." Logan said.

"Ok, so we've got past Logan, here. How the hell can we tell them apart? Can we make them wear signs?"

"I don't think they'd take kindly to that."

"No, I wouldn't." He growled.

"Well," I got up to the get a bowl of cereal, "What should we do?" I turned around. Logan was gone. Bruce was staring with his jaw dropped. "Where…what…huh?" I dropped my bowl.

Past Logan had disappeared. Like, literally. He was gone. My phone started ringing. I answered it, not taking my eyes off the spot where Logan has been.

"Dena." I said softly.

"We've got a problem." Clint's voice sounded frantic.

"Yeah, I'd say so."

"They've all disappeared." Tony sighed, slumping in his chair.

"All of them. At the same time." I said.

"Just as they appeared." Bruce added.

"Well, now I'm just confused." Clint said.

"Now you're confused?" Natasha shook her head. "The whole thing confuses me."

"What got them here in the first place?" I asked.

"Who cares? They're gone now." Clint shrugged.

"Who cares? Hawk, if someone is doing this, bringing people back, what's to stop someone from bringing back Hussein, Gadalfi, Hitler?!" I spat.

"Dena's got a point. If this is some kind of tech, in the wrong hands, it's dangerous."

"Bringing people into different time streams, Tony, it's dangerous in anyone's hands." Bruce shook his head.

"So, we have to figure out who's doing this, why, and stop him. That's a tall order when we have no idea what we're doing." Natasha sighed.

"I agree. We don't even have a clue as to the first place to start looking." I looked to Tony, hoping he would know what to do.

"For now, we'll put on feelers. Try to find anyone with anything to do with interests in time travel."

"You know how many theoretical scientists and Dr. Who fans you'll be looking at?" I scoffed.

"It's the best we've got." He sighed.

"Right. We'll, let's get to work, then." I said, and walked to elevator, heading up to my floor.

"Dena, wait." Clint jumped on the elevator with me.

"What?" I asked, clenching the guardrails as the elevator started to move. Ten seconds, the ride was over, we got out, Easy, right?

"Thor informed the rest of us about the Loki situation." Clint started. I stopped him.

"I don't want to talk about this right now."

"Dena, Azazeal wants to control you and turn you into a mindless drone."

"I know that, Hawk." I frowned. "Right now I have bigger things on my mind."

"What? The time travelers?"

"No, I have to go tell a friend that, not only do I know who his dad is, the one he's been looking for and never met, but also that he's trying to control him and turn him into a mindless drone, as well. Plus, I'm sis half-sister." I said darkly.

"Oh, right. I forgot about Nightcrawler. Are you just going to hunt down and tell all of the spawn what's going on?"

"No, and thanks so much for calming me spawn. Kurt deserves the truth."

"That's not what I meant.'

"Yes it is, I just caught you. Don't try to lie to me, Hawk, I know you too well."

"And, yet, sometimes I don't think I know you, at all."

"Because you don't." I pointed to the elevator. "Out."

I parked my car in front of the mansion, and sat there for a moment. I took a deep breath. I was about to divulge terrifying news to a dear friend. Awesome. Best day ever. I got out and went inside.

In the years that I'd been away, the mansion had not changed at all. It was the same, over-done, stately manor that I had been amazed by when Logan carried me here when I was 10.

"Well, to what do we owe this pleasure?" Storm came down the staircase, beaming at me.

"I need to see Kurt, actually." I smile at her.

"I'd ask for a hug, but as I recall, you hate human affection.''

"Not so much affection as contact. Do you know how much bacteria is the average human's skin?"

"Most of it is beneficial, Dena." Jean laughed as she came out of the den.

"I'd rather not risk it." I smiled at her. "Where can I find Kurt?"

"He was studying in the gazebo, last I checked."

"Studying?" I asked, confused.

"Yeah, he's gotten big into religion, here lately."

"Oh, dear." I shook my head. "Just what this house needs, a religious nut."

"He's actually being rather…smart about it, for lack of a better term. Going into it with an open mind, and actually reading instead of being a…"

"Zealot?" I suggested.

"Harsh, but the word works." Storm shrugged.

Kurt was indeed reading in the gazebo that sat on the cliff. He didn't notice I came up behind him.

"They say Jesus married the whore, ya know." I said softly.

"They say a lot of things." He smiled as he turned to me.

"How ya doin' Kurt?" I sat down beside him and looked out to the water. It was very…sparkely today.

"Very well, actually. How about you? Still hiding?" He asked with a knowing smile.

"I hide about as much as you do."

"And yet everyone knows my secret."

"Wow, you really don't waste time make people feel crappy, so ya?" I chuckled uneasily.

"I am sorry. It was not my intention. I was quite the kidder when I was younger, it would be bad to fall back into old habits." He turned to me, I smiled at him.

"I'm not here for civilities, anyway."

"You are not a person for civilities. You only speak when you have something to say. It is a good quality…when managed."

"It just tends to get me in trouble." I laughed, but couldn't keep the frown off my face.

"What is wrong, Dena?" he asked, concern on his face.

"How did you feel when you found out Mystique was your mother?" I asked, in a small voice. I wasn't really sure where to start in telling him all this.

"Excited."

"Excited?" I blinked at him in confusion. "You were excited to know that your mother was a murdering hate-monger?"

"No," he laughed, "I was excited to know that I had a mother at all. Yes, I admit, I was very…quick to accept her, that may have been a wrong move, but I do not think I ever hated her. She was my mother."

"But she never did anything for you," I pressed, "she didn't raise you or care for you."

"No, but she gave birth to me. She gave me up, but I found foster parents who raised me with more love than I could have ever understood. All things happen for a reason."

"I don't know if I can believe that." I shook my head slowly.

"Have you been on a quest to find your birth father again?" He sounded like he knew the answer before he even asked.

"More like I stumbled upon the answer. It's…not what I expected."

"Tell me." He smiled warmly, trying to make me feel safe. I cringed; a sudden desire to get as far away as possible.

"Azazeal." I sighed. "His name is Azazeal."

"The demon."

"You know him?"

"I've fought him a few times."

"Sweet irony."

"How so?" He looked confused.

"Azazeal has many children. Who knows how old he is, centuries, maybe. He spawns children to use as…minions, for lack of a better word."

"You think, given the biological hold he has over you, he can control you, if he wished?" He smirked at me, as if I were being foolish.

"He's a demon, Kurt, not a mutant. Who knows what he is capable of doing?"

"So you fear for yourself?"

"Not just me, Kurt." I looked at him, dead in the eyes, waiting to see if he could tell what I was going to say next. He frowned.

"You mean…I am…"

"Yes, we're not certain, but I'm sure enough to be afraid for you."

"I should be flattered, you do not fear for people often. You are very much the believer that people can take care of themselves."

Ouch. I'll let that one slide. This was his defense mechanism against things he did not want to believe. "Kurt, I found out information that pertained to you, and I let you know."

"Will you seek out every _spawn_ and let them have the same warning?" He spat the word with such hatred that I tensed up.

"No." I looked at him, my face hardening. "You just said how you didn't hate Mystique when you found out she was your mother."

"I was a lot younger, then, Dena." He let out a sigh and looked out at the water. "Mystique was not so great a sinner as a demon."

"You're nothing like him, if that's what going through your mind." I said.

"No, I have happiness, I have God." He looked at me. "What do you have to save yourself from becoming him?"

"I have my anger." I stood and started walking back to my car. "I am too angry at him to become him." I looked back to him. "I'll find him, Kurt. I'll find him, and I'll kill him.'

His face was sad; a single tear fell down his cheek. And you'll become him, and be lost to us forever."


	8. Dena and Hawkeye's Crush On Loki

"You look like you're thinking very hard." Clint smirked at me.

"I have to with you." I replied as I slowly moved my queen.

"Tsk, not a wise move, my queen." He captured my queen with his knight.

"A good queen always protects her king." I smiled, motioning to the board. He looked and cursed. "Checkmate." I chuckled.

"How did you do that?" He asked, looking bewildered.

"A move I learned from my mother."

"Your mother played chess with you?"

"She wanted to make sure I was smart; this was the best way she could be sure." I shrugged as if it were nothing.

"What's the name of this move?"

"Queen's sacrifice."

"How fitting." He smirked at me and leaned back in his chair to stretch.

"Clint, can I be honest with you?" I asked.

"Always, my queen."

"First off, don't call me that." I rolled my eyes. "I am actually trying to tell you something personal, here."

"Woah, I'd better pay attention, then." He sat at attention, his face hard as stone. I sighed in frustration

"It's about this Azazeal situation."

"I'm listening."

"I can't wrap my head around why Loki is involved. I mean, if Azazeal has this giant spawn army, why does he need Loki? He'd be able to pull it off himself."

"Maybe Loki tricked him." Clint shrugged.

"Loki is a trickster, yes, but Azazeal, from what I know of him, is clever. He wouldn't be easy to trick. And, that being said, why does Loki want to help him? He's tried to take over so many times with far more powerful allies, why would he hope to win with Azazeal? It just doesn't make any sense."

"I'm sure Loki has something up his sleeve. His actions never really show what he hopes to accomplish."

"Am I hearing a faint bit of awe on your voice, hawk?" I chuckled at him.

"I could do worse." He smiled. "Loki is a worthy adversary. He gets in your head."

"As you well remember." I took a sip of my Smirnoff that had been sitting on my side of the table, untouched.

"It's not a pleasant memory." He cringed slightly.

"Anyway, I still want to find out why they're working together."

"Why does it matter?"

"Knowledge is a powerful thing, hawk. You never know what little tid bit of info you can use against someone. I make it a point to know everything I can about my enemy."

"Now _you_ sound like Loki."

"The guy's got it right, in that perspective, I can't deny that." I laughed and looked at the clock. "I should get some sleep."

"Is it that late already?" Clint looked astonished.

"We got lost in the grand game that is chess." I laughed and pointed to the door, "Out, hawk."

"You are so demanding, my queen."

"Don't start that nonsense."

"Why not? I think it's cute."

"I am not cute, hawk. I am a killer. Killers are not cute."

"You're not a killer, Dena."

"You don't know me half as well as you think you do." I shook my head and pointed to the door again. "I'm tired, hawk."

"Fine. Get some sleep...my queen." He laughed as he ran to the elevator. I threw a shoe at him, right as the door closed. Damn, I missed.

No sooner had the door closed than my phone started ringing. I groaned, starting to feel the wear of the day. I answered gruffly.

"Speak."

"Dena, I have a job for you."

"Deadpool, I'm not in the mood. Find someone else."

"I'm afraid you're the only one who could pull off this particular job, Judge." There was a hint of laughter in his voice. It made me want to punch him through the phone.

"What's the job?" I sighed, giving in.

"T Ray."

"Excuse me?" I laughed in disbelief.

"You heard me."

"I thought you wanted to kill the big lug yourself."

"I do, but I need back up."

"Oooooh, Deadpool's acknowledging the need of backup? What the hell happened?" I giggled, thinking of the possibilities.

"He's getting in some heavy stuff, Judge. I want to nip it in the bud."

"What kind of heavy stuff?"

"Asgardian heavy stuff."

"Wait…what?" My eyes widened, I was suddenly alert.

"I heard the old boy was teaming up with Loki."

"He's just making all kinds of friends." I sighed.

"You soundslike you know a lot about this, Judge."

"I know enough."

"Feel like sharing?"

"Nope."

"Well, fine, then. Be that way."

"I shall."

"Can you help me or not?"

"I think you need to come here and have a tell-all session, Deadpool."

"I went by your apartment; it's empty."

"Yeah, long story, but I don't live there anymore." I rubbed the back of my neck.

"Ok, where are you now?"

"You'll never guess."

"Shaking up with Hawkeye?" I could practically see the smug look on his face.

"Nope. I'm in Avenger's Tower."

"Woah. Now, that, I did not see coming."

"You don't see a lot of things coming."

"Ouch, you hurt my feelings."

"Get your ass over here, Deadpool." I hung up the phone.

Loki seemed to be a very busy little god. Azazeal and now T Ray. I guess it would make sense. T Ray was a Satanist. If Azazeal had approached him with a deal for power, T Ray would have jumped at it. This just added more pieces to my puzzle; it asked more questions than it answered. What on Earth was Loki up to? Was Loki even in charge? Maybe it was Azazeal who was running the show, though I found that very hard to believe. Loki didn't follow orders; he gave them, even if no one knew it. He didn't want everyone to know he was in charge, but, damn, he knew it. I admired him for that. How sick was that?

I opened my computer and turned on my music player. I turned George Harrison up to full volume and slumped down into my chair. Yeah, the scary goth chick likes good acoustic music. Betcha didn't see that coming. I was an avid fan of The Beatles.

"Lucile never weeps. I'd ever allow it."

"I don't know what scares me more; the fact that you have a guitar, or that you named it Lucile." I turned to see Deadpool sitting on my bed. The guy was a friggin ninja. The tower needed better security.

"She has a name, because she feels, man," He stressed the last word in the stereotypical stoner emphasis. Gaw, I wanted to smack him in the face.

"Spill it." I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

"You know, your sister would have been nicer to me if she knew I had info for her."

"I'm not my sister, Deadpool.'

"No, you're not. Your sister had a rounder face." He giggled and handed me a manila folder. "That's everything I know, Judge, honest."

"Don't you find it silly, calling me Judge?" I sighed, taking the folder.

"Nope, it's a pretty it, actually. You are a judge of sorts for the people you kill."

I frowned. "I do not need you talking about what I do, Deadpool."

"Right," he rolled his eyes, "can't have the goody-two-shoes knowing that the newest Avenger is actually a contract killer."

"Shut up, Wade."

"Ooooh, she's using my name now, I'm in trouble." He smiled at me. "Your name, in Hebrew, means Judgment."

"I know that."

"So, I shall call you Judge, as I always have, It fits." He got up and walked to the door. "You really need to work on your people skills, you know that right?"

"I like my people skills the way they are." I replied.

"Non-existent?"

"Thank you for the info, Deadpool."

"Wow, now there's a surprise."

"You're starting to piss me off."

"And, now we're back to predictability."

"Out." I said, firmly. He cackled and disappeared behind the elevator doors. I stared at the closed door for a moment, almost wishing he'd come back. I suddenly felt so alone.

Have you ever met a person who was truly bi-polar? Their emotions are completely irrational and sudden. My therapist said I was bi-polar. He'd stopped seeing me as a patient when I punched him in the face.

I missed my apartment. It had been mine. Now, here I was, in Avenger's Tower, on my own floor, by myself. I didn't like it. I looked at my cellphone sitting on my desk. I almost picked it up and called Clint. That would be silly, though. I had just kicked him out not an hour ago. God, don't tell me he was getting under my skin!

I shook my head and crawled into bed, taking the manila folder with me. I didn't need Clint. I had research. I wondered if I could replace all the people in my life with books. It would be a lot less hassle. My friends could be Sophocles, Euripides, Ovid, and Virgil. I didn't need anyone else.

However, I had to admit, reading Ovid made me feel lonely. Ovid's _Amores_ was by far my favorite collection. Talk about utter betrayal. That would make you never want to love anyone, but it made me yearn for someone to care about. I guess I'm just insane, like all the doctors keep telling me.

I opened the folder and began to read, skimming over names, dates, and places. Deadpool had done a good job keeping everything neat and orderly. That wasn't like him. It made me think there was someone who did this for him. Who else knew about this file?

T Ray. That was a thought that worried me. T Ray was not someone to take lightly. He was a scary man…thing. He was a muscle-bound mercenary who gained most of his murderous prowess through satanic rituals. A Satanist involved with Azazeal? Very easy to figure out the correlation there. It still didn't explain Loki's involvement.

T Ray was always on my shit list. I was a little protective over that asshole, Deadpool. I had this gut feeling that Annie would be disappointed in me if I let anything happen to him. T Ray was constantly trying to kill him, therefore, T Ray and I were usually in some kind of tussel. I'd kicked his ass, he'd kicked my ass, we had a sort of draw at the moment, but Deadpool was alive, and that's all I cared about. T Ray as a person, I didn't give a shit. He could've been a person I got along with, in fact, Deadpool swears it, but I gotta get on his bad side to keep the little bugger alive. I don't think it was much of a missed opportunity.

I sighed and got up. I threw my black fishnet robe over my pajamas. I was wearing a black satin nightgown with lace trimings. I looked like a goth's wet dream, which was the idea. I liked looking sexy, but only when no one could see. Yeah, I'm weird like that.

I went to the elevator and punched the button for the penthouse floor. Yeah, I was taking the folder to Tony. It seemed like the thing to do. Would he want to know that it came from Deadpool? That one, I didn't know. I probably wouldn't tell him that little bit of info.

"Dena? What are you doing up here?" tony asked as the elevator doors slid open.

"I'm sorry if I caught you at a bad time, Stark. I thought you might want this." I saw the shadow of Pepper move in the background. I couldn't help but smirk a little. I handed him the folder.

"What's this?" He asked, flipping through it.

"Info about Azazeal. I just got it."

"From who?"

"Trust me, you don't want to know my sources." I smiled and turned back into the elevator. "I've already read it all, so do with it what you want."

"You're not usually so cooperative." He raised an eyebrow at me as the doors slid closed. I giggled to myself. I loved throwing him for a loop.


	9. The Hulk, The Demon, and The Lover

Bruce was working on something in the lab, and I sat, watching him work. Bruce moved with grace and flow when he worked, it was almost beautiful. It was hard to imagine that this man, when made angry, became the bull in a china shop that was the Hulk.

"We are glad you joined up, I hope you know that." He said as he worked. I blinked at him. "We haven't really been the nicest to you, have we? But, we really do need you, and are glad you're helping." He smiled at me. Ok, add being a total sweetheart to the personality of the Hulk-container. Wtf.

"Thanks, Bruce." I smiled awkwardly at him.

"You don't like people, do you?"

"I don't like them nor dislike them. I just…feel awkward around them. I'm not sociable." I shrugged.

"You need to learn to trust people."

"Not many people deserve to be trusted." I bit my tongue before I said something offensive.

"You never know until you give them a chance."

"There are people I trust."

"Who?" He smirked at me.

"Wolverine and the Professor."

"They don't count, they raised you."

"They do, too, count. I know plenty of people who do not trust their parents, and for good reasons." I shifted uncomfortably in my chair.

"Anyone besides them?" he asked, ignoring my rebuttal.

"Hawkeye." I said it without thinking, instantly regretting it. I didn't trust Clint. Did I? I don't know. It was always so confusing…

"Everyone knows you two have the hots for each other."

"What?" I broke down in hysterical laughter. "No, we so do not."

"You coulda fooled me." He raised an eyebrow at me and smiled.

"Seriously, Bannor, there's nothing between me and Hawk. We're just friends. Honest."

"Hey, no judgment here." He smiled and took a beaker off the Bunsen burner.

"I just don't see how you do it." I shook my head.

"How I do what?"

"Remain so calm. I mean, I have massive anger issues, so much that they courts are making me take anger management classes once a week, or I go to jail. You're chemically and genetically modified to be angry all the time, but you're so calm. Whatever your secret is, I'd love to hear it."

He laughed, almost dropping the beaker. "I am always angry, Dena. I just learn t….ignore it."

"Ignore anger? Yeah, that's never worked for me." I smiled and let it quickly fade away.

He looked to the door. I titled my head to the side, questioning. "Sorry, I'm expecting Tony to come down and bring me some info he found."

"Oh, the T Ray folder?"

"You've read it, already?"

"I'm the one who got it for him." I chuckled.

Suddenly, a large blast shook the room, knocking me and Bruce to the floor. Alarms went off, making my ears ring.

"What the hell is going on?" I screamed.

"It's the tower's defense systems. They're going active!" Bruce yelled back, trying to be heard over the alarms blaring.

"Shifter! Bannor! Report to the main lobby, now!" Tony's urgent voice bellowed over the intercom. We ran.

"Shifter!" I heard Clint's voice as he pulled me from Bannor and into a small room.

"Hawkeye! Thank God." I sighed. "Come on, we've got to go help Iron Man!"

"I don't think so, Dena." Clint had a tight grip on my arm. I furrowed my brows. His voice sounded funny.

"Clint, we _have _to go!" I urged. I tried to pull my arm away, he tightened his grip. He smirked at me. I watched in horror as Clint's mouth opened, and a vaporous trail came out. His hand fell from my arm; his body fell to the ground. The vapor materialized, and Loki stood before me, a smirk on his face.

I didn't think. I just reacted. I threw my fist in his face, he dodged it.

"Dena, don't over react, we need to speak." He said calmly.

"Go to Hell!" I yelled, dropping down to swipe my leg under his legs, knocking him to the floor. He grunted, and tried to get back up. I kicked him in the side.

"Dena, stop this!" He raised his hand; a green glow came out and knocked me against the wall. I fell to the floor and jumped back up, running at him with the blade I always kept hidden in my boot in my hand. He grabbed my wrist; I used his force to spin myself around, slamming my leg into his torso. He doubled over, I twisted my arm, forcing him to let go. I stabbed him in the arm. He yowled in pain and slammed his arm into my head. It knocked me back. He yanked the blade out of his arm and glared at me. "This was not how this was supposed to go."

"Where's Hawkeye?" I demanded.

"He lays there." He flicked his hand to Clint's body. "I only borrowed his body for a time."

I clenched my fists. "How long of a time?"

"Eight years."

"You bastard!" I screamed and ran at him again. He pushed me against the wall and held me there. I struggled against him, but he held a knife to my throat.

"I did not want to have to do this, my queen."

"Don't you dare call me that!" I screamed. Eight years. Eight years! All this time, it was Loki! I was such a fool!

"Dena, see sense, here."

"Sense? What sense ever comes from your mouth?"

"Well, everything I've said in the past few years."

"While you were parading around as Hawkeye!" I screeched. "I trusted you!"

"Will you let me explain myself?"

"What? Explain how you made a fool of me?" I laughed sarcastically. "I was only a pawn to you, all along!"

"What are you waiting for?" A voice came from behind him. I hadn't noticed when the alarms had stopped ringing.

My eyes widened. "You…"

"Hello, daughter." Azazeal sneered behind Loki. I thought I saw Loki roll his eyes.

"I will not be your soldier!" I hissed.

"You were born to do my bidding, quite literally, just as all the others were." He laughed, and pulled Loki away, making him drop me to the floor. I grabbed for my knife, Azazeal kicked me in the chin. I fell again, and just layed there, everything growing darker…


	10. Logic Doesn't Work Here, Judge

I woke chained to a wall. How very medieval. Wow, I was in a life-or-death situation, and I could still make sarcastic jokes in my head? I should be given an award. I opened my eyes. Bad idea. The light was so bright. I tried again, slowly this time. Everything was really blurry. It's like that every time I get knocked out. I swear, one day, I was going to massive brain damage from all the times I've been kidnapped. You'd think they'd learn not to o that, seeing as how I always kill them in the end. Word doesn't spread as fast as I'd like….or maybe they're all just stupid.

"She's awake."

"Kurt?" I blinked my eyes several times to clear them.

"Hello, sister." Kurt smiled innocently at me. "Are you ready to help father?"

"Help him? Kurt have you lost your mind?" I looked at him. His eyes were black, pupiless. "Oh, you have…"

"He is merely carrying out the tasks he was born to perform." Azazeal put his arm on Kurt's shoulder. Kurt smiled like a giddy kid at Christmas. "Don't you want to do what you were born to do?"

"Only if that involves ripping out your heart and laughing as the life flees from your eyes." I growled.

"Ah, Dena, I love your humor. I've watched over you for years, you were always one of my more favorite children. You're ruthless, just like I am."

"Ouch, that comparison hurts."

"Don't be difficult, Dena. You will do what I want you to do, eventually.'

"Only in your dreams, asshat."

"Language, Dena."

"Go fuck yourself."

"Wrong answer, sister." Kurt punched me in the face. I refused to scream, but it hurt like hell. Kurt was a good brawler.

"Kurt would never hit me." I said calmly, ignoring the blood dripping down my lip. "What have you done to him?"

"I'm glad you two know each other so well. I want us all to be one big, happy family." He ignored my question with a sly smile.

"Liar. You want us to take over the world for you."

"As a family, daughter." He smiled deviously. "You'll be a princess."

"I rather like my life the way it is, thank you."

"You don't understand, Dena. My favorite children shall be rulers of this pathetic land."

"And how do we reach favoritism? Based on how easily we kill?"

"Which is why you're near the top of the list."

"Enough talk, father. We should help her." Kurt said anxiously.

"Yes, we do want her to feel the happiness of emptiness, don't we?" He smirked at me and kissed my forehead.

"I'm going to stop you" I growled.

"No, darling. You are going to help me." They walked off, leaving Loki standing in front of me. He took off my shackles and I dropped to the ground. I stood slowly, hating myself.

He stared at me with that stupid, all-knowing grin of his. I wanted to smack that grin off his face.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" I clenched my fists by my sides. "Just turn me into one of your pawns, like all of the others."

"Why would I do that?" he tilted his head to the side, amused.

"I won't give into your stupid head games, Loki. Do it, if you're gonna." I growled.

"I hadn't planned on it." He chuckled. He stepped closer to me, I jerked back, he just smiled. He wiped a tear from my cheek that I hadn't noticed I cried. I swatted his hand away; a flash of hurt went across his face, only to disappear behind his smirk. "What do you think you are to me?"

"A pawn." I replied, instantly. "Just another one of Azazeal's soldiers to help you destroy everything."

"You haven't figured it out, yet?" He asked, a little shocked.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I scowled.

"Do you remember when I first met you, in the guise of Hawkeye?" He sat down in his chair, an ornate wingback, and gestured for me to sit in the one across from him. I sat, not taking my eyes off him, waiting for him to go on. "I was snooping through Fury's personnel files, and I stumble on upon a 13-year-old girl; graceful, deadly, and, most importantly, intelligent. I knew the file had to be overstating your abilities, there was no way such a young girl could be so…skilled. I wanted to see you for myself."

"So you kidnapped Hawkeye and stole his body?" I snapped

"Yes." He smiled at me. "I went to France and pretended to be Hawkeye to gain your trust. It was a lot harder than I anticipated. You really do not trust people."

"You can't say you blame me, given our current situation."

"See, that's what I like about you." He laughed. "Even as angry as you are, you humor me, and speak civilly. I know, even now, you are plotting a way to escape, but, also, you truly want to know why I've done all of this."

"Am I so obvious?"

"No, I just know you. I've made it a point to know you, Dena." His smile faded, only slightly. "I met you, and I was honestly surprised. The files were not overstating you. They underestimated you, actually. So young, so clever. I was jealous of you, at times."

"So, you met me, and quenched your curiosity. That doesn't explain why you stayed, for years, in Hawkeye's body." I bit my lip, thinking. "Was it always you? It was never Clint?"

"Clint was in the body, his soul, or whatever you want to call it, but I was always in control. He saw everything, but could not act upon anything that I did not wish."

"I see." I felt my heart drop in my chest again. "Were you pretending to be Hawkeye completely?"

"No, I always acted with my own personality with you. I could not bear it any other way."

"I see."

"You're not mad at me for kidnapping Hawkeye." His eyes widened. "You're mad because I lied to you."

"I like logic, Loki." I sighed. "I fell in love with the person who was by my side for all those years. I thought it was Hawkeye, you claim it was you."

"It was me, in his body."

"The…personality I've come to identify with." I cleared up my sentence. "When you made jokes, was that your humor, or what you thought Hawk's was? When you held me at night, was that your sentiment, or Hawk's? These are the questions I have." I felt tears welling up in my eyes. Damn, now was not the time to act like a love sick girl! "My biggest question; was it all a lie?"

"You're so logical, even in matters where logic does not exist." He smirked at me. "It's one of the many reasons I love you." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Everything I've ever done in Hawkeye's body was my own thoughts and feelings. I behaved around the main group of the Avengers, but around you, I was myself. I let you believe that Hawkeye just had another side to his personality that he only let you see."

"How much of it was a lie?"

"Nothing that was between us was a lie, on my part, Dena. I care for you too deeply."

"You only lied about who you were."

"Only my name and body."

"Were you ever going to tell me, or did you enjoy this sick joke?" I spat out, angry.

"That's why you're here."

"Excuse me?"

"Azazeal; does he really strike you as someone I would help?"

"Of course not, I told you my doubt when I thought you were Hawk. It didn't make sense." I crossed my arms over my chest and bit my lip, trying to stop crying and think. "What angle are you playing?"

"I knew that I'd take this rouse too far, and I would need a rather large peace offering to regain any trust you once had in me." He drew a beautifully ornate knife from his belt. I tensed, hoping he didn't notice. He handed it to me, hilt first. I took it, hesitantly.

"So, you've orchestrated this entire thing to apologize to me? How does that work?"

""This is a ceremonial knife, cursed to kill anyone it cuts." He continued.

"I assume you're not going to kill me." I stated softly.

"Of course not." He chuckled. "I give you the gift you've wanted for so long; the death of your father."

I stared at him, long and hard. Was he being serious? Loki loved his round about games, but rising up an entire army, bent on destroying Earth, just to give me a chance to Azazeal? That really didn't strike me as sensible.' "Why was T Ray needed?"

"I needed his magic to curse the dagger."

"What wild story did you tell him? He hates me, and wouldn't have done it if he knew the real reason is what you're telling me."

"You still doubt me, this doesn't surprise me." He leaned back in his chair. "He thinks that I mean to kill Azazeal and take over the Earth myself, making him my second-in-command."

"It seems like a plan you would follow." I said stiffly.

"Do not fret, my queen, I do not have any intent on taking over this planet."

"Since when?" I cocked an eyebrow at him. He chuckled.

"Since I found a reason to keep it the way it is."

"You'd stop trying to take over because of me?" I stared at him, shocked and completely confused.

"You would hate me if I tried. You're too innocent and very set in your ways of right and wrong."

"Compared to Hitler, maybe." I frowned. "I'm a contract killer, Loki."

"You are more naive than you know." He smiled at me got out of his chair, kneeling at my feet. "Please, give me a chance. I can give you anything and everything you could ever want or need. Be my queen, Dena."

"Stop calling me that, first off." I stood quickly, making him jerk back, falling over. "You want me to trust you? You have to earn it. Go back to Asgard and make things right with your father. You're not welcome on Earth, only there will you be safe."

"It is not as easy as you make it seem." He looked up at me, confused.

"Thor still believes you can change. He will speak for you. He can sway everyone around, eventually."

"Ok, I do this. Then what?"

"I don't care what you do, as long as you don't piss everyone off again. Plot your schemes, just leave Earth alone. You visit every now and again, and actually try dating me." I rolled my eyes. "I've lost a lot of trust I had in you. You have to build it all back up."

"So, you'll give me a chance?" His eye sparkled. He was less like the feared God of Chaos, and more like a love-struck teenager.

"Screw it up again, and I'll kill you."

"I believe that."

"You should." I frowned and looked to the door. "Now, tell me how I can kill my father."


End file.
